Ordinary

Have you ever wondered how it would be if you were someone with an exceptional talent or were even a tad more than ordinary? I do, almost always.

Being ordinary takes a toll on everyone, it is comfortable for sure but the comfort lasts only as long as the ignorance of it. The day, nay, the moment you realize you are an ordinary person, something inside you changes. Well, at least for me it did.

Being ordinary is waking up every morning with a purpose irrespective of its extent of definition, or waking up without one. Going through the day as every other, looking into the far distance and having nothing change. It is looking at people and not realizing you won’t matter to them, nor do you make a difference.

Being ordinary is having breakfast in the morning, if in a hurry, grab a slice of bread and a cup of coffee. The school work, presentations or the paper work stacked on your desk. Hours invested in chores that limits us and being content. It is the wild sex or the sweet essence of love-making, that moment when you leave your body and transcend to a higher dimension. Yes, a moment.

Being ordinary is the jealousy that plagues the sleep and peace of mind, insecurities that destroy every shred of confidence, the hurt tearing our souls apart. It is the love, care, betrayal and loss. It is the cornucopia of emotions that we experience but goes unnoticed like every other thing, it is experiencing the emotions yet never truly knowing them. It is having but not being.

Being ordinary is the series of failure that may or may not lead to success, series of unclaimed opportunities and deeply buried guilt. It is the chances missed and moments lost. The race towards the crown that was never anyone’s to be claimed.

Being ordinary is finding peace in ignorance, in believing what we see, hear or feel without a taste of curiosity. It is blending into the crowd while standing out on our own.It is the simple complexity in which we are born into and grow old. The sheer force of being just because, the rarity of its appreciation.

Being ordinary is downsizing what we are and could be while what we do is blown out of proportion. It is the uneasy settling of seconds in a minute, minute in an hour and so on. The great and the beyond that individuals differently believe.

Being ordinary is tiring and confusing. Being ordinary is how I am. It is how you are.

One day, perhaps I will get up and realize I am no longer ordinary. How might life be then?

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